


Good Boy

by overlordy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angsty thoughts from Genji, Begging, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, ambiguous robot genitalia, poor guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 21:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overlordy/pseuds/overlordy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji discovers something new about himself that might stir up some trouble down the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> written for scuzer, who was lovely enough to commission me!

Genji breathes deep, allowing the cold, crisp air of the Himalayas to fill his cybernetic lungs. The morning is calm and peaceful; the sun creeps its way over the distant horizon, cracked by the jagged outline of mountains. He feels the wind stir around his form, and a familiar presence beside him, warm and comforting.

“It is good that you have taken the initiative to meditate on your own time,” Zenyatta says, his voice soft in the stillness of the morning. Genji hums in response, tilting his head in acknowledgement, but otherwise he retains his lotus position. “You have made wonderful progress,” Zenyatta mutters, his praise accompanied by a soft brush of fingers against Genji’s shoulder.

A flash of heat spreads through Genji, abrupt and unexpected, like a bolt of lightning. He can feel the ghost of Zenyatta’s touch against his synthetic skin and hear the faint echo of his praise in his ears. The intensity of it jarrs him from his meditation.

Zenyatta, sensing his lapse of concentration, draws his hand back. “Forgive me, I did not mean to distract you.”

“It is no trouble,” Genji replies, shaking himself of the odd sensation and trying to redirect his focus to his meditation. To his irritation, his mind keeps wandering to Zenyatta’s praise, to the feeling it stirred somewhere deep inside him.

With a sigh, Genji stands, ignoring his master’s confused look. “I am finished for the morning,” he says, still reeling from the inexplicable sensation. He shakes his head to clear his muddled thoughts, trudging down the hill, away from his master. Genji can feel his stare burning into his back.

Once Genji takes a few hours to busy himself with training, the feeling fades into nothingness. Naïvely, he assumes it to be strange happenstance that will never rear its ugly head again.

Until, naturally, it does. Genji somehow always finds himself with the short end of the stick.

The second time occurs during a routine sparring match against Zenyatta. The sun beats heavy on their backs as they dance around each other in their makeshift ring. The fight begins like any other; Genji launches himself into the fray while Zenyatta ducks and weaves elegantly between his shuriken. The fluid movements of his master’s body are only minorly distracting- Genji reels himself in with the excuse that he is predicting Zenyatta’s next attack. The battle turns in his favor as he deflects three orbs that come shooting his way.

“Excellent work, Genji!”

Like trying to hold water in his palms, control over the battle slips from his fingers. The heat returns again, far stronger, bursting to life beneath his skin and causing him to stumble under the weight of its intensity. He grits his teeth and struggles to reel in his thoughts, grasping for any last shred of his advantage. An orb crashes into the small of his back and throws off his already skewed balance, sending him tumbling to the grassy earth.

Defeated, he rolls onto his back, wincing as he agitates the aching spot where an orb collided with his spine. He scowls, berating himself over his juvenile mistake. He is better than this, stronger than he was in the past, so _why_ -?

A sinister voice whispers, _you are lying to yourself. You will never be strong enough._

His master’s silhouette blots out the sun. A gleaming metal hand enters his vision, outstretched, and his master’s kind visage drives away the dark thoughts clouding his mind. Genji sighs and takes Zenyatta’s hand, pulling himself to his feet as his heart jumps into his throat and his skin tingles where they touch.

Zenyatta’s hand slips from his, to his own disappointment. “Are you alright, Genji?” Zenyatta asks, a note of worry in his voice. Genji nods mutely.

“Are you certain?” Zenyatta persists. “You seemed distracted. What is on your mind?”

“I-It is nothing, master,” Genji says, betrayed by his own stutter. Zenyatta hums in disbelief. “I will be fine,” Genji insists, “Nothing to fret over.”

“I am not fretting.”

“You are the picture of a mother hen.”

Zenyatta chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “Alright, alright. I trust your judgement, Genji.”

“Thank you,” Genji replies, dipping his head. He expects Zenyatta to leave in order to attend to his duties around the temple, but the omnic remains in place, his head tilted and his stare fixed unwavering on Genji. The cyborg shuffles under his master’s scrutiny.

Finally, Zenyatta speaks. “You performed excellently today,” he says in a low, calculated voice that curls around Genji like silk and sends a shiver down his spine. The sudden sensation forces a gasp from his throat, to his own horror. He slaps a hand over his mouth and makes a hasty retreat before Zenyatta can wrench any more embarrassing noises from him.

He sprints to his room and slams the door behind him, panting as his body hums and crackles with energy. His body feels feverish- to lower his internal temperature he releases a blast of steam, to no avail. The heat persists, coiled in his belly like a snake waiting to strike.

Confused by his own arousal- far more intense than anything he had ever experienced- he stumbles to his futon and collapses onto his back.

He knows better than to try and ignore it. He groans and slides his hand between his thighs, hoping to finish himself quickly. Genji closes his eyes and sighs as he releases the hatch hiding his synthetic cock. It quickly comes to life in his hand, hard and hot.

Genji strokes himself and turns his thoughts to random memories of his past trysts; hazy faces and names, soft skin under his fingers and a body pressed up against his own, shining like the brightest star in the sky, a deep whisper in his ear as metallic fingers press into his hips-

His eyes fly open and his hand stills in surprise at the sudden shift in his fantasization. He thinks to stop that train of thought before it goes somewhere unpleasant, but his curiosity takes over. He closes his eyes again and allows his imagination to wander, his hand resuming a cautious pace.

The metal hands return, strong and familiar. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry, as his master’s face appears in his mind’s eye. In his fantasy, Zenyatta’s hands move slow down his chest, tracing the grooves in his metallic body.

“ _So beautiful,_ ” Zenyatta whispers to him. An abrupt spike of arousal makes the pace of his hand increase.

Then Zenyatta grips his arms. His hands are firm, yet not controlling. Genji’s other hand wanders lower and teases his opening. His imagined, seductive version of Zenyatta teased his hole with the head of his cock. Genji lingers on the conjured image of his master’s cock, if it would be slender and smooth like its owner. Genji imagines it pressing inside of him. He imagines Zenyatta gripping his arms and pressing him down, preventing him from squirming. He imagines Zenyatta bending over him, nuzzling against the side of his head and whispering praises to him, of how good he felt and how lovely he looked and how good he was-

Genji hisses between his teeth as he comes, gripping the sheets in one hand. He slumps bonelessly against his futon, his body tingling with leftover pleasure as his fantasy fades away. He stares at the ceiling, wondering _what the hell just happened_?

The realization dawns on him. Not only does he have a crush on his master, but he also has a… _thing_ for being praised. Knowing Zenyatta and how readily he hands out praises- especially to Genji- the cyborg knows that the next few days will be complete torture.

He will have to bare with it, lest he disgusts or overwhelms- or worse, _disappoints_ \- his master with his desires. Disheartened, Genji rolls onto his side, exhaustion weighing him down like stones.

No matter, he will deal with it on his own. There is no need to wrap Zenyatta up in this issue, especially since Genji knows he would never return the sentiment. Sadness clogs his throat, but Genji clenches his teeth. He is content with their friendship; he doesn’t need anything more.

_If that is true_ , whispers a dark voice, _then why are you so upset? Selfish._

Genji sighs and settles into an uneasy sleep, unwilling to face his inner demons and their ugly, grinning faces. He will burn that bridge when he comes to it.

* * *

 

Against his better wishes, even as the days turned to weeks, whenever he looks at Zenyatta something stirs in his chest. His infatuation has clamped its jaw around him, like a cage, and refuses to let go even in the face of logic and reason. It is agony- every friendly touch feels like fireworks, every word of kindness and praise sounds like an untold promise. Even worse, the touches and praises seemed to occur more often after his… discovery.

Genji grits his teeth and ignores it. When it becomes too much to bear, he steals moments in the quiet of the evenings, with nothing but his hands and his conjured image of Zenyatta to smother the flame rising within him.

Somehow he knows he will not be able to avoid the subject forever, as appealing as it sounded. Zenyatta possesses an intuition that rivals all others, especially when Genji is involved. The omnic has a knack for knowing when something bothers his student, and it will not be long until he figures out the source of the issue.

Several weeks after the first incident, Zenyatta sought out his student. Genji, sitting with his legs crossed and his head bowed in meditation, stiffens as his master’s presence approaches him. He clenches his hands into fists and fights to keep his mind centered as Zenyatta comes to a stop beside him.

“Have I done something to upset you, Genji?” Zenyatta asks.

Guilt racks through him. “No, master,” Genji replies, honestly. “It is something I must deal with alone.”

“Genji,” Zenyatta sighs. The cyborg winces and turns his head away, unable to face his master’s disappointment. “You know that you do not need to shoulder your burdens on your own. As your master and your friend, I will do my best to help you through whatever is putting you through so much pain.”

Genji hunches his shoulders, tempted by Zenyatta’s offer to help. The thought of dispelling the weight of his desires is not an unwelcome one, but the fear of damaging his friendship with Zenyatta stills his tongue and keeps him rooted in place.

As if sensing his reluctance, Zenyatta touches his shoulder. Genji shies away from the electrifying sensation. “At least release some of your tension,” Zenyatta says. “Come spar with me?”

Reluctantly, Genji turns to face his master. For a moment he allows himself to indulge, his eyes raking over Zenyatta’s sleek and slender body. He imagines what those hands would feel like on him.

He swallows and shoos those thoughts away before they escalate into something uncontrollable. Genji feels he kept Zenyatta at arms-length for long enough and nods, albeit reluctantly.

“Excellent,” Zenyatta says, a smile in his voice. “Come along.”

Genji stands and follows his floating master, hoping he hasn’t made a mistake.

Zenyatta leads him to the grassy clearing they used for spars. Genji hasn’t set foot here since last time, unwilling to relive the mortifying events that took place. He stands and tries to relax his posture into something more battle-ready as Zenyatta drifts to the opposite end of the clearing and faces him.

“Are you ready?” Zenyatta asks. With a sigh, Genji drops into a battle stance- though his tense and unsteady form can be knocked over by a light breeze. He waits for Zenyatta to begin, but instead the omnic hovers motionlessly, staring at Genji with his head tilted. Genji frowns to himself, suspecting that his master is planning something mischievous. His stance becomes more defensive in preparation, one hand on his dagger and shurikens in the other.

Zenyatta’s folds his hands in his lap, his orbs spinning at a dizzying pace in the air. Genji readies himself for Zenyatta’s first attack. Instead of lashing out, his master speaks.

“I am very proud of you, Genji.”

The cyborg’s eyes widen, his muscles tensing and his form dropping as the weight of his master’s words washes over him. He struggles to gather himself, narrowly ducking out of the way of an orb hurled toward his head.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Zenyatta says again, accompanying his praise with another orb sent slicing through the air. Genji shudders as Zenyatta’s words begin to take their toll, fanning the flame within him. He ignores it, focusing on dodging Zenyatta’s barrage of attacks, accompanied by praises that cause Genji to falter in his steps. He focuses on regaining control over himself, trying to block out the words that sent pleasure racing through him while he weaves between orbs.

The attack pauses and Genji skids to a halt, panting as a mixture of exhaustion and arousal courses through him. He feels heat and pressure and releases a burst of steam to try and cool himself down. He knows he has reached his limits. He needs to forfeit and retreat once more to his room, before Zenyatta notices his state.

“Genji, you look wonderful.”

Genji gasps aloud, his eyes widening as Zenyatta stares at him innocently from his spot across the clearing. He hasn’t moved an inch. “Shouldn’t we focus on the spar, master?” Genji asks in a desperate attempt to divert the attention away from his nagging arousal.

Zenyatta chuckles and the sound goes straight to Genji’s cock. Slowly his master begins to float towards him, his piercing stare pinning Genji in place. Genji holds his breath in anticipation as his master comes to a stop just a breath away, his hand resting on Genji’s chest. “I think we both know I’ve already won,” Zenyatta says in a low, knowing voice.

Genji tries to flinch away, but Zenyatta stills him with a steady hand on his shoulder. “How long?” he asks, not unkind, not disgusted. Genji’s hands shake.

“A few weeks,” he answers, “maybe longer.”

Zenyatta nods in understanding, his other hand seeking out Genji’s own. Wordlessly, Zenyatta twines their fingers together, brings their joined hands up to his face, and presses a kiss to Genji’s knuckles. The cyborg’s breath catches at the small gesture and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Are you…?” he asks, unsure, unwilling to get his hopes up.

As an answer, Zenyatta chuckles and unfolds his legs, standing before Genji. One hand travels from the cyborg’s shoulder to his waist and pulls him forward until their bodies press flush together. Genji bites his lip, feels each groove of his master’s body slotting perfectly against his own, like they were made to be together. “Would you like to go to your room, Genji?” Zenyatta asks, an unspoken promise in his deep, soothing voice.

“Please.”

Zenyatta nods, and with no small air of finality, leads Genji along by their clasped hands. Genji’s head spins, a giddy feeling surges up in his chest as they slink in the shadows. They press up against walls and duck into bushes, stealing small, electrifying kisses, just out of sight of passing monks, the threat of discovery adding a thrill to their tryst. It’s reminiscent of his youth and the nostalgia creates a bittersweet weight in his chest. On any other occasion he would lose himself in his memories of the past and allow the sadness to sweep him away, but Zenyatta’s hand wrapped tight around his own and the gentle kisses they share between them achor him to the present.

Soon they reach their destination. Genji closes the door behind him and locks it, and for one dizzying moment he wonders if everything will fall away and send him crashing back into the waking world- it wouldn’t be the first time. When Zenyatta’s hands settle on his waist, when he presses closer and rests their brows against each other, the sensation is so inexorably real that it steals Genji’s breath away. He can’t stop himself from touching his master in return, dragging the tips of his fingers feather-light down Zenyatta’s smooth back, dipping into gatherings of cords and wires.

Zenyatta hums, “I am sensitive there,” he says, reaching behind him to grasp Genji’s hand. Zenyatta directs his touch, guides his fingers to pinch and twist in a way that makes Zenyatta gasp. “Genji,” he groans, and the cyborg draws his hand away.

“Yes?”

“If you continue down that path, the evening will end very quickly,” Zenyatta laughs, releasing Genji’s hand in order to caress his helm. “May I remove this?” Zenyatta asks, and after a nod from his student he presses down on the clasps of Genji’s helm and sets it gently to the side.

Once it is out of the way, Zenyatta takes a moment to stare at Genji’s exposed face. Reflexively Genji hunches his shoulders, feeling exposed under his master’s intense scrutiny. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax, assuring himself that Zenyatta has seen his face multiple times, that the omnic would never think ill of him.

“May I touch your face?” Zenyatta asks. Genji’s eyes widen and a small part of him wants to say no, wants to deny his master and hide himself away. He grimaces and pushes away his thoughts, focusing instead on his master’s kindness and patience. Throat dry, he nods.

Zenyatta moves slowly, giving Genji time to prepare himself for the touch on his face. He forces himself to relax. When Zenyatta’s fingers brush his scarred cheeks shivers travel down his spine and he leans into the soft touch. Zenyatta cups Genji’s cheeks, traces small circles into his skin, and brings him closer until their lips brush together, static crackling on his skin.

“Genji,” Zenyatta whispers, so close that Genji can feel the vibrations of his voice against his mouth, “what do you want?”

Genji pauses, pursing his lips as he mulls over Zenyatta’s question. He reflects on everything he had dreamed of in the past few weeks, everything he desired- now laid bare before him. He knows what he wants.

“I want you to take me.”

Zenyatta nods and his hands are on Genji’s waist again, but this time it’s different, his touch more insistent- more controlling. It sends heat washing over Genji, arousal curling in the pit of his stomach. “If you need me to stop, tell me,” Zenyatta says- no, _orders_ , and all Genji can do is swallow and nod.

Zenyatta steps forward, pushing Genji back and guiding him with firm, steady hands to lie on the futon. Zenyatta’s hands find his hips and circle the faintly glowing steam valves located there. Genji fights to keep himself still as Zenyatta explores the contours of his body, skimming his fingers over Genji’s smooth carapace and the hard, synthetic muscles of his thighs. The light touch makes Genji twitch and he bites his lip to hold back a noise.

Zenyatta glances up from his thorough exploration of Genji’s body. “You are beautiful,” he says in a deep voice, one that causes a jet of steam to release from the valves on Genji’s body.

Zenyatta climbs onto the futon and with gentle hands spreads Genji’s legs. He parts them, willingly, and Zenyatta kneels between his thighs, his hands tracing imaginary shapes onto his skin. Zenyatta’s touch wanders upwards, tantalizing, so close to the area Genji wishes to be touched, but instead of gratifying his student Zenyatta continues. Genji whimpers as Zenyatta runs his hands along Genji’s stomach, faint lights pulsing beneath his fingertips as his student’s arousal heightens. An unbearable pressure lingers just beneath Genji’s skin.

“Please,” Genji gasps, an action that surprises himself, but his need won’t go unheeded. “Master, I need-”

“What do you need, Genji?”

“I-” Genji’s voice trails off, his self-consciousness creating a brief barrier. Zenyatta doesn’t press him, instead guides him along with reassuring brushes of his fingers against Genji’s sides. The touch comforts Genji, enough that his inhibitions fall away, along with everything else- until it’s just them, together, and nothing else matters.

“I need you to touch me,” Genji says, “here.” He rolls his hips upwards and fixes Zenyatta with a pleading look.

Zenyatta assents, finding and releasing the hatch concealing Genji’s half-hardened cock. The cyborg moans in relief as the pressure disappears and his synthetic cock springs free. Zenyatta takes him in hand and strokes, movements long and slow and _too much_ and _not enough_. Genji pants and grips the sheets beneath him as Zenyatta teases the head of his cock with his fingers, bringing him to full hardness.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Zenyatta mutters and the praise shoots straight to Genji’s dick, making his thighs twitch and pulling a whimper from his throat. One hand slips lower to trace Genji’s pulsing entrance. “You’re so wet for me. Do you want me inside of you, Genji?”

He moans and nods, “Yes, Zenyatta, please, I need you- _ah!”_

Zenyatta’s finger slips into him with ease, curling upwards and stroking along his walls in time with the hand around his cock. Genji screws his eyes shut, his back arching off the futon as a second finger joins the first and spreads him wide until his thighs tremble. Zenyatta swipes a bead of pearly, fluorescent green fluid from the tip of his cock. Genji slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle his high, desperate noises, the exquisite feeling of Zenyatta’s hand around him and inside him almost too much to bear.

“Let me hear you,” Zenyatta whispers. In a heartbeat Genji moves his hand from his mouth and lets out a long, aching moan. Zenyatta chuckles and leans forward, thrusting the fingers inside of him at such a wonderful angle that it’s almost impossible to focus.

“Good,” he praises, and Genji shudders. “We are lucky that your room is rather isolated from the rest of the temple.”

Genji can’t help but agree as Zenyatta curls his fingers and presses against a spot that creates stars in his vision and makes his voice ring out. Genji can’t imagine himself lasting much longer like this, not with Zenyatta’s fingers fucking him so perfectly. Through his pleasure-wrought delirium he somehow finds the strength to form a coherent sentence.

“Zenyatta- _ngh_ \- please, I need…” A hard thrust cuts him off, his lips parting around a silent moan of bliss.

Zenyatta chuckles, “Yes, Genji? What do you need, little sparrow?”

The pet-name makes Genji’s heart soar and his cock twitch. He bites his lip to stop himself from coming right then and there. “I need your cock, _please_ ,” he pants, jerking his hips down onto Zenyatta’s fingers and into his slowly stroking hand.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Zenyatta pulls his hands away and Genji whines at the lapse in pleasure. He keeps himself patient, reminds himself that the best is yet to come. He bites his lip in anticipation as Zenyatta hikes his legs up. Genji watches with hunger as Zenyatta shoves down his pants and frees his sleek and slender cock, dripping with a clear fluid. The sight makes Genji’s mouth water, and before Zenyatta can push inside Genji stills him with a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” he says, and Zenyatta listens, going statue still as Genji wriggles off his back.

“Do you want to stop?” Zenyatta asks, a note of concern in his voice. Genji shakes his head vigorously- stopping is the farthest thing from his mind- and pushes Zenyatta back until he sits on the futon with his legs splayed.

“Genji?”

“I want to taste you, master,” Genji breathes, “can I?”

Zenyatta chuckles and places a firm hand on the back of his head. “I thought you wanted me to take you?”

“I do. Later.” Zenyatta applies the barest amount of pressure to his touch and Genji begins his descent, trailing his lips down his master’s smooth chest as he goes, brushing against cords and wires that cause Zenyatta to twitch. He feels Zenyatta petting his head as he comes to a stop before Zenyatta’s cock, dripping against the omnic’s stomach. Genji wraps his hand around it, feels it hang hot and heavy in his hand, and slowly he strokes it. He smiles as Zenyatta sighs in pleasure and pushes against the back of his head, until he finally relents and opens his mouth, taking the head of Zenyatta’s cock inside.

His master hums and pets his head, “Good boy,” he says, and Genji moans around the cock in his mouth. He lowers his head, presses the flat of his tongue against the throbbing underside, and relishes in the faint, delightful noise that Zenyatta’s internal speakers produce. He laps up the clear, tasteless fluid dripping from Zenyatta’s cock and bobs his head. He moves down lower and lower, taking more of his master’s cock into his mouth with ease. Genji sighs in pleasure as Zenyatta fills his throat, until his nose presses flush against the base. He feels Zenyatta grasp his sash tight in one hand, and a faint tug pulls Genji off with ease.

Genji pants, his lips tingling and his face hot, as Zenyatta stares down at him. Zenyatta traces his lips with his fingers. “Wonderful,” he says, rapturous, and Genji closes his eyes and basks in the praise. “You’ve done marvellously, Genji. Should I give you what you want?”

Genji gasps, “Please,” but Zenyatta shakes his head.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Genji.”

“ _Please_ , Zenyatta,” Genji begs, “I need to feel your cock inside me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

Zenyatta chuckles, a deep and dark sound that causes heat to pool in Genji’s gut, like molten lava. “Good boy,” Zenyatta says, making Genji whine, and with a firm touch he guides Genji into his lap.

“Thank you, master,” Genji moans. He takes Zenyatta’s cock in one hand and aligns himself as Zenyatta’s hands settle on his hips, aiding him in his push downwards. Genji gasps as Zenyatta’s cock slips inside, stretching and filling him in a way that makes his toes curl. Genji pauses, panting, taking a few seconds to bask in the moment. Starting slow, Genji rolls his hips, letting out a quiet sigh of pleasure. Zenyatta’s hands trace small, encouraging circles into his hips.

“You’ve taken me in so perfectly,” Zenyatta says, and the words make Genji pause. “You’re doing such a good job, Genji.”

Genji keens, his head spinning and vision fogging as pleasure assaults him. He settles his hands on Zenyatta’s shoulders and raises himself up, slowly, feeling his master’s cock slide out of him inch by inch. Abruptly, he lowers himself, gasping as Zenyatta fills him again. He keeps his pace slow, eyes closed in bliss, exclamations of pleasure leaving him as he fucks himself, his movements punctuated by Zenyatta’s soft, artificial breaths.

“You feel so good, Genji,” Zenyatta whispers, dragging one hand down to Genji’s entrance, his fingers pressing against his student’s stretched hole. “You’re so tight, so perfect. You feel amazing.” Genji whimpers, increasing the pace of his hips as his master’s words wash over him.

“I-I won’t last long- _ah_ \- if you do that, Zenyatta,” Genji says, tripping over his words as the pleasure fills him up, brings him closer and closer to an overwhelming point. His hands shake and he clutches Zenyatta’s shoulders tighter. Zenyatta doesn’t complain, only nuzzles the crook of Genji’s neck and places small, electric kisses against his skin.

“Nor will I,” Zenyatta says, his voice possessing a synthetic breathlessness. “You’re so tight, my little sparrow. You’re taking me so well.”

Genji cries out, gasping as Zenyatta’s grip on his hips tightens and forces him down hard. A shudder passes through him as he takes Zenyatta in, as Zenyatta’s cock presses _just right_ against his walls and makes little lights dance in his vision. Zenyatta takes control of the pace, dragging him up, achingly slow, until Genji quivers and begs to be filled again, stumbling over his desperate words as the pleasure muddles his thoughts and drives everything else away until all he can feel is them, together. Steam clouds the room and sticks to their bodies, almost like sweat. Zenyatta whispers kind, yet filthy things to him, fucking up into Genji as he guides the bruising pace of his hips. All Genji can do is hang on and gasp and cry, shivering as the heat beneath his skin gathers and builds to a gratifying point.

“Zen-Zenyatta- _please_ \- I’m going to-” Genji stammers, his sentence broken by sharp moans.

“It’s alright,” Zenyatta mutters, “you’ve done so well, Genji. Come for me.”

Genji writhes, nearly sobbing, as his pleasure reaches its final point. Then he stills, twitching and convulsing as waves of bliss wash over him, like a high. He grasps at Zenyatta’s shoulders, needing something to anchor him as the powerful sensation threatens to sweep him away. Past his overloaded sensors, he feels something hot and wet splash against his insides, and he shudders.

His muddled senses return to him like a fog leaving his mind. He opens his eyes and everything comes into focus, sharper and with more definition. His oversensitive body struggles to process it all. He winces as Zenyatta’s cock slides free.

“Are you alright, Genji?” Zenyatta asks. “A few of your lights went dim. Did I push you too hard?”

Genji blinks down at Zenyatta and chuckles, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. “No, it was perfect,” he laughs, pressing his lips to Zenyatta’s smooth cheek. His master hums and guides them down, laying across the futon. Genji relaxes for what feels like the first time in weeks, comforted by Zenyatta’s presence beside him. Genji feels himself slipping away, his sensors dimming as his breaths deepen.

One last thought crosses his mind before he can fall unconscious. He touches Zenyatta’s hand in a silent request. He smiles as his master laces their fingers together, and can’t stop himself from speaking. “I love you,” he says.

For a brief moment Genji worries over his thoughtless statement, but Zenyatta press a staticky kiss to the crown of his head. “I love you, too. Sleep well, my little sparrow.”


End file.
